let me kiss Your feet...

i'm already on the floor.
with my alabaster jar.















i love You.

no matter how i feel inside

i keep having this wonderful vision. i'm sitting at an upright piano writing a song. i don't know where it is, but i know the house i'm in is mine. i have a cat on my lap. i'm wearing a red shirt that buttons down the back. the room looks like something i would put together and there is a small jar full of hand picked flowers on top of the piano. i did not pick them. i am keenly aware of the fact that i am loved by someone special. i don't know who that person is, but his presence in my life is something i feel very sure of sitting there.

i have moments lately where i am very lonely. not the kind of lonely that friends can fix. i drove to my grandparents last week, because family and that town are the sweetest rest my bones can ever find. it felt so good to be out on the road again. at one point i glanced at the passenger seat and wished i was in it. the tears that followed caught me off guard. i felt angry for a moment. abandoned. very tired of putting on the brave face and saying i'm ok with "doing my own thing." and then i heard Him say, "i'm sitting here. reach out your hand." so i did. it landed on the arm rest, but did not hit fabric. my hand was on top of His hand. my tiny hand on His. my tears gave way to laughter and i was reassured. on the switch backs of the 49, He told me that if i would just trust the truth that has been spoken and seek the truth that will be, the rest will come. even the upright. the button down. the cat on my lap. the flowers in a jar. and a love to be sure of.

gold mine gutted

i want to write it on a piece of paper and stuff it in a bottle. i want to record myself saying it over and over and over again. and do God knows what with the bottle or the tape when i'm finished. i want to get in a car and yell it out the window at random strangers. i want to spray paint it in what is left of the snow. i want to write a song about it and sing it until everyone around me plugs their ears. i want to pay a plane to spell it out on a banner and drag it through the sky over a crowded beach. i want to stick my fingers in paint and spell it out all over my body. or canvas. whichever is more readily available. i want to call everyone i know and tell them too. i want to write it in a book. i want to make up a code so i can hide it in mundane messages. i want to spell it out in invisible ink on everything you own. i want to be able to stare at a picture and make you feel it. but i wouldn't need to do any of this if you'd give me space to say it to your face.

here's the question

what does it mean to stand still?

to stay in one place even when it itches?

i think i realized through a series of events (and by series i do mean one. right. after. the other.) that i am not comfortable staying in one place longer than i have to. i know i've moved around my entire life and perhaps this has a lot to do with it, but i am constantly looking to the next thing. where will i be in the fall? Da made it very clear where i will NOT be in the fall and now it is my turn to rest in that. why not here? why not? what makes me think i have to go anywhere? or prove anything? to anyone? what about seeing something through? what about listening until it is made clear? what about taking time to recognize and then draw out my passions and my giftings? what about surrounding myself with beauty and actually looking up every once in a while? i crave freedom, but sometimes fail to recognize that the only thing the standards of this world or other people offer is bondage. please keep reminding me of that.

i think that was more to God than anyone else.

also. i still love you.

so it appears

my hands lost their cool this morning. i splashed my entire cup of coffee all over the floor and things i prefer to keep dry. i dropped a water bottle on my frozen toes. walk it off. i don't think it coincidence that when i am taking the neccessary steps to total surrender that the little frustrations creep up and have their fun. i had an unread message in my inbox last night. it was from a friend of mine. she'd sent it sometime last summer. somehow i'd never read it. it said "i miss you." that friend died almost four months ago. apparently Da wasn't kidding when He said He was going to make me face things. apparently we're having it out. apparently there is going to be some heart searching. wretching. healing. apparently.